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On September 10, 2001, I spent hours skimming Dante's Inferno as part of my research for the screenplay I was about to co-write using coincidence as a subtext.
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After reading my first screenplay, Ken Lawrence approached me a few weeks before about collaborating on a new "powerful project." Not long after we sat down at the Barnes and Noble in Manchester, New Hampshire, and before ever revealing anything about his mysterious project, Ken asked me if I knew about a notable day in Boston history that changed America and saves lives every day, but that few Americans knew about. I shook my head. I didn't know. He then pulled out a Sunday edition of a Boston Globe newspaper, wrapped in plastic and dated November 29, 1942, with the headlines "400 Dead in Hub Night Club fire." The old newspaper Ken stumbled upon at a flea market was the first of a flurry of coincidences surrounding our writing of the 1942 Boston nightclub fire at Cocoanut Grove, a story itself filled with coincidences.
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All of the protective fire laws in public buildings - Exit signs, crash bars, emergency lighting, sprinklers, occupancy limits and nonflammable materials - were not established until after one of the worst fires in America at the posh Boston nightclub, Cocoanut Grove. On that Thanksgiving weekend in 1942, a fire that lasted a mere 15 minutes claimed the lives of nearly 500 people and injured hundreds. From the combination of intensely flammable and toxic materials used in the decorations and suspicious business practices and building maintenance (many of the side doors were padlocked) by the Grove's mob connected owner, Cocoanut Grove exploded from the inside out. Killed in this national disaster were entertainers, prominent Bostonians, servicemen and women and the well-known cowboy movie actor Buck Jones, and many members of his entourage, which included a number of high-powered Hollywood executives.
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Ken was first drawn to writing the story of Cocoanut Grove after hearing broadcaster Paul Harvey relay, in his signature voice, the "rest of the story" on his national radio show. The most noteworthy coincidence involved the Boston College football team who were so highly favored in a football game against Holy Cross (the winning team would head to the Sugar Bowl) that reservations for the Mayor's victory party at Cocoanut Grove were planned weeks in advance. The Mayor's party was cancelled when Holy Cross upset favored Boston College 55-12. Two weeks before, BC printed up posters displaying two of their All-American players; the numbers on their football jerseys read 55 and 12.
In his thick native Boston accent, Ken shared some stories with me that he heard about the Grove growing up in Boston. Ken knew both the story and the culture well, and had me in stitches with his realistically comical characterizations. I was sold. Yet before I agreed to collaborate, I asked Ken to answer one important question for me. What's the one thing about this story that resonates with you the most, I asked. The coincidences, he answered. I nodded and smiled. Me too. There's a strange thing about writing about unexplainable coincidences. They follow you. |
The first major coincidence in August 2001 came when borrowing Paul Benzaquin's 1959 book about Cocoanut Grove, "Holocaust! The Shocking Story of the Boston Cocoanut Grove Fire" from the Bedford New Hampshire library. The libraian knew that the world's foremost expert on the Cocoanut Grove fire, Jack Deady, lived in Bedford. It wasn't long after I finished the book that we visited Jack (now deceased) with all our jaws appropriately dropped at our rich find. His entire basement was filled with every conceivable file and artifact associated with the Cocoanut Grove fire. It turned out that Jack's father was the lead investigator of the fire.
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Cocoanut Grove was considered "the place to see and be seen." With blue satin draping its walls and ceilings, palm trees decorating its floors and coconut husks surrounding the lights, Cocoanut Grove was made to resemble an island paradise. A retractable ceiling allowed patrons to literally dance under the stars to the country's most popular big bands.
The weekend before Thanksgiving, 1942, Boston held its first air raid drill to test the city's emergency preparedness in case of a German Luftwaffe attack on the city. The Civil Defense Director branded the exercise a success, saying the city was now ready for any kind of disaster. On the night of the holocaust, Angelo, the impeccably dressed Cocoanut Grove Maître d, stayed home due to his ongoing battle with gout, creating a house so crowded patrons had to turn sideways to get through the tables in the dining room, which Angelo would have never allowed. Around 10 p.m. Saturday night, November 28, 1942, a small car fire called Boston firefighters a few streets away from Cocoanut Grove. As soon as one firefighter extinguished it, he noticed smoke coming from the nightclub. In the overcrowded basement bar, Melody Lounge, a patron unscrewed a light bulb to darken the corner where he smooched with his date. The head bartender ordered a young bus boy to screw the bulb back in. Unable to see, the bus boy lit a match. While witnesses saw the match being completely stamped out and investigations later cleared him, this 15 year old bus boy was to be blamed and ostracized for the rest of his life. According to Jack Deady's well-thought out but unofficial hypothesis, simultaneously, in the same darkened corner, faulty wiring sparked from an air conditioner leaking highly flammable methyl chloride. Cocoanut Grove was ablaze in coincidence. |
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The sparks ignited the fake palm trees and toxic blue satin hanging from the ceilings. A raging fireball rushed up the narrow staircase and into the main dining room. Cocoanut Grove's signature revolving door became a death trap stacked with bodies. Absolute panic ensued. With the raging fireball just inches above their heads and toxic smoke rapidly filling their lungs, patrons charged and jammed up against the doors; doors which were locked or only opened inward. Many died being crushed by the panicking crowd.
Minutes before the fire started, a wedding photographer ran out of film. She left to buy more only to return to find the club engulfed in flames. The bride and groom she had just photographed died in each other's arms on the dance floor. The next day, a photo was taken of the charred grand piano with sheet music sprawled about. One song stood out: "We'll Meet Again."
Minutes before the fire started, a wedding photographer ran out of film. She left to buy more only to return to find the club engulfed in flames. The bride and groom she had just photographed died in each other's arms on the dance floor. The next day, a photo was taken of the charred grand piano with sheet music sprawled about. One song stood out: "We'll Meet Again."
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Firemen who rushed to the scene attempted to climb over charred bodies to gain access to the building. Eventually working their way in by smashing through doors and thick plate glass windows, firemen were subjected to one horrific sight after another. Due to its gruesome nature, there was one particular scene our script consultant (a former studio development executive) suggested we remove, until we explained that it really happened. After we finished the script, Ken tracked down fireman George Graney (now deceased), one of the first firemen to arrive at the grisly scene, and recorded George's retelling of his experience that night. He told Ken about a scene he said he'd never forget. Upon finally breaking into the club and rushing into the Melody Lounge, he and his colleagues found what at first glance appeared to be survivors, until they looked closer. Some patrons sat at tables, eyes open, their hands still wrapped around their drinks. Instantly overcome by the toxic fumes, they never had a chance to move.
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Despite all the heartbreak and misfortune, there was a positive side to this devastating story. The fire at Cocoanut Grove prompted the first widespread use of penicillin, major advances in burn therapies, and even the birth of grief therapy. To this day, the fire at Cocoanut Grove is part of many a firefighter's curriculum.
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Ken and I decided to write our epic story Titanic style; a historically accurate portrayal woven together by a fictional love story. During our visit in Jack's basement, we found ourselves unable to take our eyes off a black and white photo on Jack's wall of a young, up and coming singer named Dorothy (eventually nicknamed "Dauntless Dotty"). Immediately, Ken and I knew we found our leading lady. When Jack pulled out an article about the owner's 24 year old nephew Daniel, who tended bar in the Melody Lounge and was studying to be a psychiatrist (as a psychotherapist, the word jumped off the page at me), we knew we not only had our hero, but our love story too.
In early September 2001, Ken and I decided to meet on a weekly basis. With the occurrence of 9/11, Ken and I were suddenly experiencing what so many of the people in 1942 Boston must have experienced. Neither Ken nor I personally knew anyone lost on that tragic day, yet we both felt an eerie responsibility to get this story right; to tell a noble story that would truly honor those who were lost. We were beginning to feel like the Cocoanut Grove story was writing us, and not the other way around. |
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Shaken by the propelling coincidence in my reading of Dante's Inferno the day before the Twin Towers fiery finish, I sat before my blank computer screen, waiting for 1942 Boston to appear. I entertained the thought of playing 40's swing music, but it was just too upbeat. Searching my music library, I came across Loreena McKennitt's haunting "Dante's Prayer"
"From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me."
When 1942 finally arrived, I heard those cello-laden lyrics play dozens of times. I set my CD player to repeat until the restaurant finally appeared in all its swank and swoon.
More than anything, Ken and I wanted to write a love story that would survive when all else was lost. Ken and I allowed history and ruby slippers to guide us. After reading the stories of the real Daniel and Dorothy, we imagined and developed fictional characters loosely based on them and imagined fate bringing them together at a not so enchanted Emerald City. As our synopsis states: "The week before the fire, love sparks between handsome Daniel Cohen, the owner's nephew, and the new star singer, tantalizing Dorothy James. Daniel hides his passion for Dorothy from his fiancée Annie, the daughter of the local mob boss and owner of the club. Despite the risks, Daniel falls in love and decides to follow his heart. Daniel and Dorothy's forbidden relationship sizzles, ignites and explodes on the night of the fire." When our script consultant revealed he became so engrossed in the love story (for 80+ pages) that he forgot about the fire, we knew we got it right.
Besides the coincidences, the love story, and the fire, the other intriguing tale to tell about Cocoanut Grove was about the regulars at the club. People like Tony, the 15 year old bus boy who made it out alive by stuffing his head in a vat of ice cream to breathe; Bunny, the bosomy cigarette girl who was considered the face of Cocoanut Grove and Pepper, the brash and sassy dancer who dated the saxophone player in the club's band. One more well-known story was of Coastguardsman Cliff Johnson, who staged a miraculous recovery after receiving burns over 50% of his body from repeatedly rushing back into the burning club to try and save as many people as possible. Sadly, the flames of fate would eventually hunt Cliff down, claiming him as Cocoanut Grove's final victim.
After Ken and I finished our final draft, Cocoanut Grove eventually made its way to Hollywood in the form of a producer who fell in love with the love story, and wanted to produce the movie. Around the same time, the deadly nightclub fire at The Station in Rhode Island brought an unwelcome coincidence into the picture. The entire time we were writing the script, we always assumed what happened at Cocoanut Grove was a matter of history, and would never happen again.
The producer in Hollywood was never able to find the funding for the movie. We've since pitched it elsewhere and received phenomenal reviews, but no takers. There may be many reasons why we haven't sold it yet (it's not for a lack of dedication and effort) yet one thought continually haunts us. Cocoanut Grove is not an LA story. It's a Boston story, and belongs in Boston. It's a part of Boston's history and people.
"From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me."
When 1942 finally arrived, I heard those cello-laden lyrics play dozens of times. I set my CD player to repeat until the restaurant finally appeared in all its swank and swoon.
More than anything, Ken and I wanted to write a love story that would survive when all else was lost. Ken and I allowed history and ruby slippers to guide us. After reading the stories of the real Daniel and Dorothy, we imagined and developed fictional characters loosely based on them and imagined fate bringing them together at a not so enchanted Emerald City. As our synopsis states: "The week before the fire, love sparks between handsome Daniel Cohen, the owner's nephew, and the new star singer, tantalizing Dorothy James. Daniel hides his passion for Dorothy from his fiancée Annie, the daughter of the local mob boss and owner of the club. Despite the risks, Daniel falls in love and decides to follow his heart. Daniel and Dorothy's forbidden relationship sizzles, ignites and explodes on the night of the fire." When our script consultant revealed he became so engrossed in the love story (for 80+ pages) that he forgot about the fire, we knew we got it right.
Besides the coincidences, the love story, and the fire, the other intriguing tale to tell about Cocoanut Grove was about the regulars at the club. People like Tony, the 15 year old bus boy who made it out alive by stuffing his head in a vat of ice cream to breathe; Bunny, the bosomy cigarette girl who was considered the face of Cocoanut Grove and Pepper, the brash and sassy dancer who dated the saxophone player in the club's band. One more well-known story was of Coastguardsman Cliff Johnson, who staged a miraculous recovery after receiving burns over 50% of his body from repeatedly rushing back into the burning club to try and save as many people as possible. Sadly, the flames of fate would eventually hunt Cliff down, claiming him as Cocoanut Grove's final victim.
After Ken and I finished our final draft, Cocoanut Grove eventually made its way to Hollywood in the form of a producer who fell in love with the love story, and wanted to produce the movie. Around the same time, the deadly nightclub fire at The Station in Rhode Island brought an unwelcome coincidence into the picture. The entire time we were writing the script, we always assumed what happened at Cocoanut Grove was a matter of history, and would never happen again.
The producer in Hollywood was never able to find the funding for the movie. We've since pitched it elsewhere and received phenomenal reviews, but no takers. There may be many reasons why we haven't sold it yet (it's not for a lack of dedication and effort) yet one thought continually haunts us. Cocoanut Grove is not an LA story. It's a Boston story, and belongs in Boston. It's a part of Boston's history and people.
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About five years ago, at the town hall in a small New Hampshire town where I used to live, I was chatting in casual conversation about the writing of the Cocoanut Grove screenplay when the man I was telling it to nodded toward an elderly lady who had just walked in. She was there, he said, at the Grove. She's a survivor. Amazed, I hesitated approaching her, not sure about bringing up such a disturbing topic. Since it suddenly brought us together, I listened to fate. After introducing myself as a writer, I ever so gently asked her if she would mind sharing her story about her experience at the Cocoanut Grove fire. Over 60 years later, tears immediately welled in her eyes as she said "I can still remember the smell." After years of researching and writing the story, the horrors of Cocoanut Grove finally became real to me.
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Around the same time, Ken introduced me to a local producer, Joe Cummings. Joe was so taken with Cocoanut Grove that he compiled a CD of 40's era music, including We'll Meet Again, adding Dante's Prayer as the last song on the CD. When I listen to the CD now, it's not just the fire and era that come alive, but all the coincidences behind the writing of our story.
Joe and I became friends, and collaborated on other projects together. More than anyone, Joe helped me see the significance in playing in our own backyard, but also to uphold an even grander vision. Through all my twisted travels on the yellow brick show biz road over the last decade, I've come to realize that when Cocoanut Grove finally comes alive on the silver screen, for it to become real enough to enlighten as well as entertain, it must be made in Boston. More importantly, in every step of the production process, we need to be mindful about making a movie about a local event that devastated so many. Like the characters in our story, we must follow our hearts. As Pepper advises a distraught Dorothy just before the fire, "You know sweetie, I may be just a poor, dumb working girl, but even I know what shapes our lives." Dorothy looks up, perplexed. "Love."
On Saturday January 25, 2013 I decided it was time to write this article as a mean to raise awareness of this project, and chose its theme to be the coincidences surrounding the writing of Cocoanut Grove. The very next morning, I learned of the nightclub fire in Brazil. Like The Station nightclub fire, all over the news were comparisons to Cocoanut Grove. As I typed fervently away, this latest troubling coincidence jolting me with renewed determination and purpose, I came across a comment thread on an online national news outlet where a man wrote the following about the Brazilian Kiss fire: "When I was a teenager, my parents told me over and over about the Coconut Grove nightclub fire in Boston, and since then I have tried to avoid similar situations while working in the music business for years.”
Joe and I became friends, and collaborated on other projects together. More than anyone, Joe helped me see the significance in playing in our own backyard, but also to uphold an even grander vision. Through all my twisted travels on the yellow brick show biz road over the last decade, I've come to realize that when Cocoanut Grove finally comes alive on the silver screen, for it to become real enough to enlighten as well as entertain, it must be made in Boston. More importantly, in every step of the production process, we need to be mindful about making a movie about a local event that devastated so many. Like the characters in our story, we must follow our hearts. As Pepper advises a distraught Dorothy just before the fire, "You know sweetie, I may be just a poor, dumb working girl, but even I know what shapes our lives." Dorothy looks up, perplexed. "Love."
On Saturday January 25, 2013 I decided it was time to write this article as a mean to raise awareness of this project, and chose its theme to be the coincidences surrounding the writing of Cocoanut Grove. The very next morning, I learned of the nightclub fire in Brazil. Like The Station nightclub fire, all over the news were comparisons to Cocoanut Grove. As I typed fervently away, this latest troubling coincidence jolting me with renewed determination and purpose, I came across a comment thread on an online national news outlet where a man wrote the following about the Brazilian Kiss fire: "When I was a teenager, my parents told me over and over about the Coconut Grove nightclub fire in Boston, and since then I have tried to avoid similar situations while working in the music business for years.”
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A Memorial Plaque was embedded into the sidewalk of Piedmont and Church streets where Cocoanut Grove once stood, honoring those lost in the Cocoanut Grove fire. Beside a picture of the floor plan of the nightclub, it reads:
The Cocoanut Grove. Erected by the Bay Village Association, 1993. In memory of the more than 490 people that died in the Cocoanut Grove Fire on November 28 1942. As a result of that terrible tragedy, major changes were made in the fire codes, and improvements in the treatment of burn victims, not only in Boston but across the nation. 'Phoenix out of the Ashes.' Recently, a Cocoanut Grove coalition formed in Boston as "a collaborative effort that brings together original and secondary sources from the collections of local Boston institutions and people interested in preserving the history of the fire." |
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On the Celebrate Boston website, there is a page about the Cocoanut Grove disaster, with a comment thread indicating that many share the sentiment of the following comment: "28-11-2012 Today is the 70th anniversary of the fire. Still no significant memorial and it didn't make a headline. I wish a non-profit could be set up to fund an adequate memorial. The victims are not forgotten."
Considering the uprising of the the coalition, New England Studios, public interest and more importantly, history repeating itself, it's time to make this film.
Producing a movie to raise awareness, help save lives and offer a suitable tribute are all noble intentions. Yet underlying such a bold hope is another less obvious and more common one. Cocoanut Grove was written as an epic hero's journey. Our script consultant considered the screenplay "Smart and sophisticated. Titanic-like. Cleverly stitched." This real life tragedy comes complete with 40's era uniformed heroes, mink draped mobsters, red lipstick and white gloved ladies, and a universal Coming of Age message. Yet it's also just a simple story, with a timeless message that bears repeating.
Follow your heart. We'll meet again. Please remember me.
Considering the uprising of the the coalition, New England Studios, public interest and more importantly, history repeating itself, it's time to make this film.
Producing a movie to raise awareness, help save lives and offer a suitable tribute are all noble intentions. Yet underlying such a bold hope is another less obvious and more common one. Cocoanut Grove was written as an epic hero's journey. Our script consultant considered the screenplay "Smart and sophisticated. Titanic-like. Cleverly stitched." This real life tragedy comes complete with 40's era uniformed heroes, mink draped mobsters, red lipstick and white gloved ladies, and a universal Coming of Age message. Yet it's also just a simple story, with a timeless message that bears repeating.
Follow your heart. We'll meet again. Please remember me.
Photos from the collection of Jack Deady
Photo of Cocoanut Grove Memorial & matchbook from Celebrate Boston website
Photo of Boston College/Holy Cross 1942 poster thanks to Historical Football Posters
We'll Meet Again by Vera Lynn; Written by Russ Parker & Hughie Charles, 1939
Dante's Prayer by Loreena McKennitt, 1997.
Bio:
Deborah has always been fascinated by the transformational power of story. As a young girl, words charmed her in their ability to weave ideas into shape and color. Unifying her early excursions into both prose and psychological research, she wrote and published a thought-provoking parable on the art and science of self-love called Looking Glass Sky, which arose from her years in private practice as a psychotherapist. Deborah’s love of story next led her deep into the fabric of screenwriting, from which she spun four feature length screenplays based on the mythic hero’s journey format. Threaded throughout the lives of each of the leading ladies in these inspirational stories, you’ll find hers. They include an ageless astronaut, a 40’s jazz singer, a Clipper ship Captain's wife, and a mother with a deep dedication to both her daughter and the earth. Deborah’s recent heroines, Ms. Bee Haven and Mzzz Pink, among others, originate from her cartoon world Splash City, a Disney-like approach to personal transformation using 'Cartoon Mentors,' therapeutically woven fables, and a splash of wonder.
Photo of Cocoanut Grove Memorial & matchbook from Celebrate Boston website
Photo of Boston College/Holy Cross 1942 poster thanks to Historical Football Posters
We'll Meet Again by Vera Lynn; Written by Russ Parker & Hughie Charles, 1939
Dante's Prayer by Loreena McKennitt, 1997.
Bio:
Deborah has always been fascinated by the transformational power of story. As a young girl, words charmed her in their ability to weave ideas into shape and color. Unifying her early excursions into both prose and psychological research, she wrote and published a thought-provoking parable on the art and science of self-love called Looking Glass Sky, which arose from her years in private practice as a psychotherapist. Deborah’s love of story next led her deep into the fabric of screenwriting, from which she spun four feature length screenplays based on the mythic hero’s journey format. Threaded throughout the lives of each of the leading ladies in these inspirational stories, you’ll find hers. They include an ageless astronaut, a 40’s jazz singer, a Clipper ship Captain's wife, and a mother with a deep dedication to both her daughter and the earth. Deborah’s recent heroines, Ms. Bee Haven and Mzzz Pink, among others, originate from her cartoon world Splash City, a Disney-like approach to personal transformation using 'Cartoon Mentors,' therapeutically woven fables, and a splash of wonder.